


Where fate led them

by emmadilla



Series: 30 Day OTP Challenge [21]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Angst, Betrayal, Break Up, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Hurt, M/M, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 09:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17660267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmadilla/pseuds/emmadilla
Summary: After Nate assists the Railroad in destroying the Prydwyn, Arthur gets a chance to confront his former lover after the fact.





	Where fate led them

**Author's Note:**

> 30 Day OTP Challenge
> 
> Day 21: Betrayal
> 
> \-----
> 
> So, uh, yeah. Sorry if this turned out a little more intense than I initially planned on. I mean, the prompt is "betrayal" ...

The explosion ripped through the air, sending shockwaves and heat so intense it even rocked the vertibird as it escaped. Arthur grabbed onto one of the handholds, steadying himself as he scowled, anger coursing through him. _How could Nate do this to me?_

 

He’d just barely managed to escape with his life on the last vehicle that would ever leave the Prydwyn, Arthur’s pride and joy. He had been the one to direct its construction, the one who oversaw it from conception to reality. It was his baby, just one thing in a long line of accomplishments that he had been able to claim over the years. So the fact that his lover felt the need to blow it up, well, it didn’t rest too well on him. Nate _knew_ what the Prydwyn meant to him, what it meant to the Brotherhood. Hell, he knew what the Brotherhood meant for the Commonwealth: peace and stability, much as it had for the Capitol Wasteland. Arthur had come here offering the very thing that he’d managed to establish in DC, but somehow, somewhere along the way, everything had started to change, and bit by bit Arthur had felt the power he’d started amassing from a young age start to slip through his fingers. Just when had that happened?

 

The Commonwealth was different than the Capitol, certainly. Its terrain, its enemies, even its inhabitants and how they viewed the Brotherhood. Naturally, it was difficult to account for differences like these when planning in the Citadel, though they’d done the best they could with what they had as far as recon information, and so once they actually arrived there was some … adjusting … that they needed to do. Yes, adjusting. Settlements were not easily persuaded to share resources, even with the promise of Brotherhood protection, which meant a lot more effort went into gathering supplies just to keep the soldiers fed than initially anticipated. This landscape was replete with artifacts and miscellaneous technology, but food? Not as much. And the farmers were very protective of their crops ( _As they should be_ , Arthur had mused, knowing just how easily it could be to be taken advantage of), so much so that even Proctor Teagan had difficulty in getting through to a lot of their contacts. _Teagan_ … had he been able to escape the blast? Arthur felt a pain in his chest as he started doing a mental tally in his head … _Teagan … Quinlan … Ingram … Kells …_ those names, amoung many others, flashed through his mind. Looking back, he knew … he knew it was impossible that even a fraction of them escaped, that the majority of the survivors of the attack were the ones lucky enough to be stationed below at the airport. Once the assault was made known, it was over too quickly for much to be done other than running around, firing weapons, and sussing out the enemy that had dared to attack the Brotherhood’s airship. Most probably didn’t even know who it was.

 

But Arthur knew. He may not have been wearing that damned Vaultsuit, but he knew Nathan Howard when he saw him. Their eyes had connected once, briefly, before Nate shot at the wall beside Arthur as a warning and took off. He had meant to miss, Nate never missed, but why? If he was so determined to take down the Prydwyn, why not go ahead and kill his lover why he was at it? Arthur growled. _Fucking coward. Can’t even face me, knowing what he’s done_. As the vertibird circled lower, getting ready to land, the Elder realised that there was another vertibird on the beach, one that Nate and his little merry band of Railroad agents were filing out of. He growled, his grip tightening, his eyes flashing. He would have his chance to get revenge now, revenge for the property damaged, the people lost, the pride wounded. If they would only let him land, of course. He swore up and down, praying to whatever god might exist that he would get a chance, because Nathan Howard needed what was coming to him.

 

The group on the ground allowed the vertibird to land, though all of them aside from Nate pulled out their weapons and kept a steady target on him. _No sudden moves, then_. As much as he wanted to shoot Nate in the face, he had to try to maintain some semblance of calm, if only for a moment, so that he could try to exact some measurement of vengeance for his crew. As the vehicle landed, Arthur jumped out, striding toward Nate like this was his birthright, like he _had_ to talk to him and everything else be damned, he was _entitled_ to this. And he was going to take it. Nate simply looked him in the eyes, staring him down calmly as Arthur stopped a few feet away from him. The last Maxson was seething with rage, breathing heavily, eyes bloodshot. The very opposite of the composed Elder that he wanted to embody, but goddamnit, after everything that had just happened, Arthur figured he was granted permission to appear less than put together.

 

Arthur’s eyes narrowed as he snarled. “How dare you.”

 

“Oh really?” Nate countered. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

 

Nostrils flared as Arthur swore he was going to get a nosebleed. “Is it, now? And just what have I ever done to you to deserve my ship being blown up and my people murdered?”

 

Nate stood there in a casual stance that was somehow more infuriating than the look of cold hatred in his eyes. “I dunno, massacring Railroad HQ seems to rank pretty high up there.”

 

Arthur grit his teeth. He knew that Nate had some friends in the organisation, but in all the time they’d been together, he’d done his damn best to tell him about the Brotherhood, about their legacy, about how much good they could do _together_ … and not just in bed. They had been so close, so intimate, so _vulnerable_ with each other, he’d thought that Nate would understand, that he would side with Arthur in the end. After all the times Nate had jerked awake at night, sweating and panting at the nightmares that plagued him, all the times Arthur had been there as a solid foundation for him to stand on, if he felt he could even stand at all … maybe he was a fool, but Arthur had thought that meant something. Who else had helped him in his mission to find his son by outfitting him in Power Armour and turning him loose on the Commonwealth? Who had assisted him in building the relay that he’d needed in order to enter the Institute? And who had, upon his return, gripped him tightly as he fell apart, mourning the son and the future he’d never have? Arthur couldn’t lie, this betrayal … it hurt him _deep_. It hurt him because Nate knew him, he wasn’t some faceless enemy, he knew him and he still screwed him over. And all for what, a few dead Railroad agents? Were they really worth more to Nate than Arthur and what he could provide?

 

Snorting, the Elder shook his head as he replied, “You knew the Railroad’s interests ran counter to the Brotherhood’s. The two could no coexist, and so I took a preemptive strike.”

 

He could tell that got to Nate, with the way his jaw tightened and his body stiffened. “That’s what you’re calling this? A preemptive strike? The Railroad had no plans to attack you, Arthur.”

 

“I couldn’t take that risk, not when our goals and beliefs are oil and water. You _know_ this, Nate, it’s strategy in war. The enemy of my enemy is not always my friend.”

 

Nate laughed mockingly. “How cold can you be? You ordered the extermination of innocent lives, and you’re just fine with that?”

 

“They were not innocent, they were knowingly working counter to our operations here. And just how are you going to stand there and berate me with all the blood on your own hands? You killed most of the men I brought here, men I’ve supervised and helped to train since induction.” Taking a deep breath before he started yelling and his voice left him, he fixed him with a gaze. “I let you into the Brotherhood, something that I’ve done for many, yes. But more than that, I let you into my _bed._ I was there for you when you needed help, whether that was weapons, armour, supplies, or just someone to support you.” Tears stung the edges of his eyes, but he blinked rapidly to force them away. “Does that really mean nothing to you?”

 

He could see similar tears in Nate’s own eyes, but similarly the man was far too stubborn to let them fall. “And how do you think I felt when the Brotherhood swarmed the church?”

 

“I would have hoped you would remember everything I taught you about us, about what we believed in, fought for, _died_ for. I would have _hoped_ that you would choose the man you claimed to love over a bunch of ragtag, undisciplined blasphemers of the human race.” Arthur couldn’t even help the volume increase as his rage was boiling over, the hurt and the pain coming to the surface. “You could have joined me, Nate! Together we could have taken out the Institute before we brought the fight to the rest of the wasteland!”

 

“You are a _boy_ playing at war!” Nate roared, his calm demeanour gone, replaced by a mask of fury that seemed to rival only Arthur’s. “I remember well what it was like before the bombs dropped, when the war was waged on so many fronts it was hard to tell what way was up and what was fact and what was propaganda. I remember what it was really like, and the games you’re playing now, they are _nothing._ You’re some hotshot now, because why? Because your ancestor _deserted_ his post and started this whole organisation? Because you received special training and instruction from childhood? Well good for you, you get a clap for that. _I_ didn’t get _shit_ handed to me. And the wars I fought in were far uglier than anything you can imagine, then anything you could even dream of constructing. So don’t sit there and act all high and mighty when the only reason you have what you do is because of your name and little else.”

 

“I _earned_ my title!” Arthur seethed. “I still had to train, to fight just like any other Brotherhood member. I had to prove my worth no matter what name I carried.”

 

“And a fat lot of good that did you, you’re still a spoiled brat who refuses to step back and look at the bigger picture.”

 

Arthur bristled. “How can you stand there and even _pretend_ that you stand for some righteous cause after everything you’ve done? All of the people on board, from the Lancer-Captain down to the lowliest recruit, they are all _dead_ because of you and your friends. Hell, even the cat is gone! Do you do anything but leave destruction in your wake?”

 

“At least I handled it personally, instead of sending a goon squad out to do my dirty work for me.”

 

“That is what a _leader_ does, I would think you would understand that.”

 

“Then you understand that, as a leader, anything your men do can be put on you. That even though it’s your men mowing down my friends, it might as well have been you in that power armour.”

 

Exhaling sharply through his nose, Arthur’s gaze never left Nate’s once. “They may have been your friends, but they were my enemies. I had no choice but to move against them.”

 

“And again with that cold bullshit. It never occurred to you once to think beyond what your superiors told you? To think for yourself? To realise that an alliance would be far more beneficial for the wasteland in the long run? No, you can only think of your fucking pride and your ego. That and your precious fucking name.”

 

“My name is a _legacy_ , it is something I have to live up to.”

 

“By being a raging asshole?”

 

“A good leader does what he must no matter what! He acts for the good of his men and his mission whether anyone likes it or not!”

 

“I’m not one of your fucking soldiers, Arthur.”

 

The Elder snorted. “Believe me, that much is apparent.”

 

Nate shook his head. “You really feel no remorse?”

 

“I told you, I did what had to be done, for the good of the Brotherhood and of the Commonwealth.”

 

“You killed Glory!”

 

“We killed a Railroad agent.”

 

“You killed a _friend_.” Nate pulled his gun, finally, aiming it directly at Arthur. “Whatever we had between us, you destroyed it when you attacked Old North Church. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

 

So this was it, then. Sighing, Arthur refused to look away. “After all I’ve done for you, it’s come to this?”

 

Nate’s hand shook ever so slightly. “Don’t pretend you had no hand in this.”

 

Arthur was incredulous, heartbroken that his relationship, and indeed his life, was coming to an end like this. “And don’t act like you’re a saint, either. When you lie awake at night, I hope you remember me. I hope you remember this moment, what it felt like to pull that trigger. Because if you don’t, I guarantee you, I will hunt you down across this wasteland and I will end you myself.”

 

“An eye for an eye, then. I think I can live with that.”

 

“You’ll have to. This is your doing. Had I the choice, well … you know what I hoped for, for the future. For the Brotherhood, for the wasteland … for us. But I see now, too late … you destroy everything you touch, everything you say you love. Your Railroad friends may laud you for this, but you’ll bring them down with you in the end. And if that’s the only consolation I get out of this, then so be it.”

 

Nate was silent for a few moments before he said softly, “I wish it didn’t have to be like this, Arthur.”

 

Arthur was surprisingly calm, knowing what was coming. “I wish the same. Though, I think we both know, we can’t all have what we want.”

 

As they stared each other down, the burning wreckage of the Prydwyn in the background, they both knew what had to happen, what fate each of their destinies had led them to. Their different histories and backgrounds aside, their individual decisions and actions had put them right there, on that beach, facing down each other. Arthur's hand rested on his laser pistol, ready to draw, not willing to do so yet, to initiate the inevitable duel. His momentary softness of heart was his undoing. Nate’s hand steadied, and his lips tightened as he pulled the trigger.

 

And so fell the last Maxson.


End file.
